


All The World's A Stage

by VenetaPsi



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Faking Emotions, Hidden Emotions, Implied Happy Hogan/Pepper Potts - Freeform, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Prompt from quote, Quote from William Shakespeare, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, public face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenetaPsi/pseuds/VenetaPsi
Summary: This was his life after all, in front of the public eye. Constant scrutinization and judgment.This was his world. False love and fairweather friendship.His home. Blinding lights and scripted stages.---Story and Prompt from William Shakespeare's quote, "All the world's a stage..."





	All The World's A Stage

_All the world’s a stage._

 

The brunet stood to the side, partially shadowed by towers of equipment and rigging. Pale skin framed by charcoal cloth went unnoticed against the tangle of black wires and silver metal, chipped paint and irregular dents from equal parts use and carelessness. Knuckles shown like snow against the dirtied metallic sheen of steel, foreign to the organic material curled around it, but a familiar sight in the engineer’s calloused hand. 

He stood still and silent, feeling the rush of people swirling around him. Camera men, makeup crews, managers. It was strange, to feel invisible. How familier he’d become with the spotlight. However brief this moment was, he clung to it, embraced it. Allowed himself to be blanketed in the shadows and the folds of machinery. 

Sunglasses cloaked whisky eyes which surveyed the area countless times, shielding thoughts behind a wall of tinted red. Through closed curtains, the rumble of voices from thousands of people filled his ears, his mind. He closed his eyes, fingers twitching, breathing it in. Feeling the vibrations travel from the cold steel into his hands, feeling it reverberate in his chest.

Slowly he let warm air pass through his lips, a gentle exhale.

One lavishly clad foot moved forward, then the other and the darkness fell away to expose him to the rest of the world. It took mere moments to be spotted, less still to be swept up by a flurry of people, all talking and prodding to ready him for the stage. 

And he smiled at them all, accepted their help with grace, ignored the hands that begged for the smooth comfort metal, the skin that crawled for darkness, the chest that ached for the sweet dullness of alcohol. 

 

_The world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players._

 

Tony wasn’t afraid, wasn’t nervous. This was his life after all, in front of the public eye. Constant scrutinization and judgment. 

This was his world. False love and fairweather friendship. 

His home. Blinding lights and scripted stages. 

Yet his cheeks ached from the smile that had plastered itself there, present from the moment he left his tower. His eyes burned with exhaustion and his fingers twitched from too much caffeine. 

He laughed to a tactless joke, leaned into a touch on his arm eons away from chaste, smiled at the lead makeup artist who was making a list of every flaw on his face in need of obscuring. Ignored the flaring pressure in his chest.

 

_They all have their exits and entrances._

 

He was so very tired. Each step bounced with energy, each word dripped with careless ease. 

With the gentle swish of orange hair against blackened cloth, Pepper strolled up to him, heels clicking with her brisk footsteps. Her nimble fingers smoothed imaginary creases from Tony’s suit. 

Sweet, kind Pepper. 

She gave him a tight smile and he flashed one back, bright, public. False. Her eyes saddened as she smiled back, small, tight, genuine. 

His chest hurt. He needed a drink.

Tony’s hands toyed with a strand of bronze hair, his mouth ran with empty words he didn’t think, his laugher _hurt._ She stopped his hand with her own, her fingers cool, the sharp metal of the ring on her finger cooler still.

Not his. Never his.

She asked him if he was alright. He said he was fine. Duties forced her away, their hands falling apart, her gaze apologetic, pained. He shooed at her to leave. 

_Stay._

She turned away, already sucked into her job, words falling from her lips, hand directing the people under her command. He watched her until bodies blocked her from view, until voices and hands pulled him away.

 

_One man in his time plays many parts._

 

A man smiled at him from across the room, crisp in a suit, shoulders held back, smile large, open. He wondered which part of him the man wanted. Probably his money, his billionaire status. Donations to a cause or funding for a political campaign. 

The woman with her arm tucked neatly into the crook of the man’s arm was draped in fake riches, thick cloths made cheap and chains spun with gold coated nickel. She watched him hungrily. He wondered if in her eyes he glowed green with dollar bills. 

Multiple pairs of eyes watched his every move, watched ever female to step foot near him with flirtation in their movements. They were reporters who had somehow sneaked in. Just waiting for the briefest sign of a scandal to sink their talons into his skin. Wishing for another story about the drunk playboy and his womanizer ways. 

Business rivals and potential partners alike showered him with equal parts jealousy and desire. Smartly dressed men and women who saw his genius, but only far enough to see his tech and success. 

The government agent near the door, no doubt to ask him to make more weapons even after he’d said he was _done._

And the crowd outside didn’t want him at all. 

The world only loved Iron Man. 

 

_His act being seven ages._

 

Backstage went silent moments before the hidden audience did. A man’s voice sparked from poor speakers, introducing the show, words falling from his lips into the microphone in hand. The crowd clapped and cheered as they were expected. Laughed right on cue.

Multiple grips on his arms guided Tony into position. Bodies circled him with critical eyes, made last second adjustments to his hair and clothing. Fingers clipped the microphone on his collar. 

Then everyone was moving away, the lights dimming, leaving him standing alone, shadowed, watched by every eye present. 

The crowd exploded into cheers, the curtain jerked violently and then parted.

Tony Stark raised his arms to the spotlight, lips curled in a smile as he and the audience both rose to fill their scripted roles. 

He was quite the actor.

_\- William Shakespeare_

**Author's Note:**

> "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages."
> 
> \- William Shakespeare
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
